The Elements of Sacrifice
by Sekhmet88
Summary: The end of an age has been reached and a time of tarnished peace has fallen on the Wizarding World. Time continues to move in a circular orb, and the mantle must be taken up again.
1. Prologue: Should the Circle Be Unbroken

A/N: This story, as fledgling as it was, is being revamped

_A/N: This story, as fledgling as it was, is being revamped. I've been bit by the creative bug and planned out several chapters, which hopefully will make things run smoothly and quickly. _ _Enjoy!_

_Prologue: Should the Circle Be Unbroken_

She runs through the woods on all fours, panting heavily. The strain of 2 weeks without substantial food is evident in her young body. Was she still in England? Borders mean nothing as she tramples through forest, dodging hunters and predators as she goes. Her shape belies her age as gangly limbs break her pacing. The trees seem to bend away from her, flowers and underbrush shirk from her thick pads before springing jubilantly to life behind her. Her destination is mere yards before her: not an address, not an invitation, simply a pull that felt peaceful. She collapses against the cool stones of the front steps of an old cottage and falls into blissful unconscious. The silent lady of the cottage opens the door to find a young girl, maybe nine years old at most, surrounded by a blanket of grass and flowers that peek through the grey stones.

The summer heat brings sweat to her back as she weeds the gardens surrounding the house. The gardens are not even of her own making, at yet she is forced to weed them once a week. Salty droplets run down her neck, trace her teenage spine to disappear under her waistband and pool at her knees. The sun beats down upon her blue-black hair as the thick strands stick to her face, to be brushed away by dirt-smudged hands. She sits back on her heels before lying down in the long grass, proud and strong against the non-existent breeze. She runs a hand across her face, wishing it were as cool as the ice chips that clinked in her aunt's lemonade glass. A blissful chill runs across her face and rests behind her neck, cooling her reddened face. Perplexed, she pulls back her hand to find it covered in frost.

Her blonde hair swings behind her merrily as she dances in the meadow behind her house. It is the first day of freedom from school, to search out interesting things and read to her heart's content. She has all day long to contemplate the world and everything in it, from the imaginary to the concrete. The breeze billows around her, pulling gently at her hair and swirling her breezy skirt. She falls into the grass and hums a tune while the trees sway in time. She hears her father's voice across the yard and sits up abruptly. The wind stops. It doesn't escape her notice.

She slams the door closed behind her, letting its resounding crack speak more volumes than she ever could. She steps gently through the mess of the attic, her movements a direct contradiction to her mood. She was, yet again, left behind, perpetually one step behind. As it had always been, and would always be. Tears slowly slid down her face as she made her way to the rose-glass window. Their salty heat licked at her face, burning her cheeks in shame and misery. She glanced into the window, out to the night and her own reflection. Tears of fire spilled from her eyes, as gentle waves of flame curved down her back, her fiery mane of hair transformed.

Tucked away in the highlands of Scotland, Albus Dumbledore nursed his blackened hand with a side of remorse. A majestic bird with scarlet plumage appeared with a flash to hover briefly over his desk. A long golden feather wafted down to his desk as she vanished into the night once again. Stretching out his aged but working hand, his thin fingers grasped the point of the feather. As he raised it into the air, he begin to smile in quiet triumph.

"And so the circle remains unbroken."


	2. Chapter 1: Our Nature Lies in Movement

_A/N: College is slowly sucking me dry, creatively. I apologize. Italics are flashbacks, by the way._

_Chapter 1: "Our Nature lies in movement"_

Tabitha Moonstone stood in front of the large, wooden double doors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry with a complex series of emotions. She felt peace at coming home, bitterness towards the years she had missed, and pride and resolve in her reasons for coming. The doors slowly creaked open before her, as they always had and would always do to those welcome in its hallowed halls. She walked down the stone corridor to the golden phoenix guarding the stairs to Dumbledore's office.

"Peppermint sticks"

Before she could knock on the door, she heard a warm, paternal voice say "Come in, Ms. Moonstone"

Shaking her head at his omnipotence, she pushed open the door and entered Dumbledore's slightly cluttered office.

"Hello, Dumbledore. How are you?"

"Quite well, my dear. I take it you've been well?"

"Yes sir, thank you. I take it all four of the girls have realized their powers."

"Well, you are aware of Esme and Calypso. Luna has known of her powers for quite some time, since she was a small girl."

"Yes, I was the same way. Esme also is well acquainted with her abilities."

"Well, then," Dumbledore said, "I believe it is time for training to begin. Take them to your home in Wales. You know what to do, and you have Gretchen there to help you."

Tabitha began to leave the office. "I still don't know how you manage to know these things, even after all these years." She was halfway out the door before she skid to a halt and turned around.

"I almost forgot! Who is the fourth girl?"

"Ginny Weasley, Tabitha."

_Two days later, kitchen, The Burrow_

"She'll be perfectly safe with us, Molly"

"Yes, Gretchen. Which is why one of you is dead, one is worse than dead, and you two vanished off the face of the Earth for nearly 15 years."

"Molly," Tabitha said, voice tight with a grief that had not healed in 15 years, "do not think that Gretchen and I do not miss Lilly and Alice every single day. Do not think that our loss doesn't fester in us. And do not think that we will not do everything in our power to teach the girls everything we know. We did not have predecessors to teach us, who had experience. They will. Ginny will."

A red-haired girl stood in the doorway, peeking in at the two strangers. The woman with raven hair and violet eyes briefly glanced at her before winking in her direction and looking back at Mrs. Weasley.

"Molly, if we do not teach her to control her gift, it will consume her. Particularly hers, it is particularly brutal if left unharnessed. Let her come with us, if only for her own health and safety."

Molly Weasley slowly turned to look at her precious only daughter standing in the doorway. Unshed tears swam in her eyes as she imagined the trials ahead of her child; obstacles and dangers a mother hopes their young will never have to face. She turned back to Gretchen and Tabitha who were both staring down into their cups of tea.

"Don't worry," Gretchen said softly, "we, too, are mothers facing this choice. We understand what we ask of you."

_A week later. Welsh countryside, 20 kilometers from Aberystwyth_

"Control yourself, Ginny! It is only when you can control yourself that you can achieve anything!"

Ginny Weasley struggled to maintain the small flame in the air in front of her. It could grow no larger, nor smaller. Sweat beaded and trickled down her temple, entangling in the curly wisps of hair around her ears. The flame flickered, sputtered, and went out.

"Ugh! I can't do it! Let me do something bigger! I'll be able to control it if it's bigger!"

"Ginny," Tabitha said, "Don't lose your patience too much. Lilly was the same way. But once you master this, and you _will_. Anything will be within your reach."

Ginny glanced up from the floor, fire lighting the tips of her ponytail. "Lilly?"

"Yes, Lilly Evans- or, Potter, as I'm sure you know her. To Gretchen and I she was Lilly Evans. Harry's mother, and our best friend and partner. She was fire, as well. And she was just as impatient as you to control it. It's almost comical; the element that needs the most time and energy to control given to those with the least amount of patience to do so. It would frustrate her so much, bursting into flame whenever she got the least bit excited. You can imagine how that would be difficult! She would sit in the yard for hours, staring

at the flame as it manipulate in size. Finally, she held a single, tiny flame for two whole hours – and then she could contain and maintain any flame of any shape for any length of time. Make her proud of you."

Tabitha stood and left Ginny alone in the yard. Calypso found her there, two hours later, staring at a tiny flame with a small grin of triumph on her face.

"Hey, Sparks! Looks like you've finally got it, congrats!" Calypso reached out to touch the flame, encasing it in ice. Esme leaped out of her tree and laid down in the grass, her head pillowed in Calypso's lap. All three watched Luna Lovegood dance in the yard beyond them, singing with the breeze that danced only with her.

Ginny tugged at the flame with her conscious, as Tabitha taught her to do, stretching it and bending it to her will. Slowly, a miniature flaming horse began to canter in a small circle.

"Cally?" Ginny asked quietly, "why are you, Esme, and Luna so accustomed to your elements already? Why am I so behind?'

"Well," Calypso said, "Luna is lucky; she discovered the wind early and began to manipulate it simply for her own pleasure. I've known elemental legends and training since I was little. Mom began to tell me stories when she told me we were going to live with Aunt Tabitha. She'd been searching for Aunt Tabby since I was born; it took her six years to find her. She'd gone away to protect the secrets and teachings of the elementals, so she'd could teach the next generation. Us. We moved in here, and Esme came three years later."

"You aren't Tabitha's biological daughter?" Ginny asked, her eyes not moving from the flame as it shifted into a lioness.

"No," Esme said, "I am her . . . adopted daughter, of sorts. I found her, along with Aunt Gretchen and Cally, when I was nine years old."

_Esme opened her eyes to pale yellow walls_ _and dark wood paneling. The bed beneath her was soft and plush, with crisp white sheets and a dark green quilt with winding yellow vines and scalloped edges. A beautiful woman with inky black hair and starry violet eyes held her hand and a small girl with black hair and blue-grey eyes sat in a chair in the corner. _

"_Good morning, my little wolf. I am Tabitha Moonstone, what is your name?"_

"_Esme."_

"_Esme? What a pretty name. How old are you?"_

"_I'm nine years old."_

"_Nine! Calypso, my friend Gretchen's daughter, is nine. Where are your parents? I'm sure they're worried about you."_

"_My tad, my . . . father, was a wizard and my mother . . . she had the moon disease. She turned into a wolf when the moon was round. We lived in a cottage near Cardiff. They both died when I was little."_

_The pretty lady, Tabitha Moonstone, twisted a small diamond ring on the fourth finger of her left hand. "A very good friend of mine has lycanthropy. This must be why you can turn into a wolf, yes? But at your own free will? He'd be very interested to hear that . . . who has been looking after you?"_

"_Nobody. I've been looking after myself."_

"_After yourself? At nine years old? Since you were small? Well, if you like, you can stay here for awhile."_

"_If it wouldn't be too much trouble . . ."_

"_Not at all. I'll get you some soup." Tabitha, soon to be called Mama, walked towards the door, then turned around._

"_Do you know how you did that? Made all those flowers grow?"_

"_No, ma'am. I just think they're pretty; they make me happy."_

_The little girl, Calypso, got out of the chair and pattered over to Esme. She wore a blue dress and wore her beautiful black hair in soft plaits with soft pieces curling into her eyes. She hesitated for a brief moment, and then clambered into bed with Esme. She took hold of Esme's hand; something soft, yet cold formed in Esme's hand. Uncurling her fingers from the object, she discovered a rose made of ice. _

"_My name's Calypso. My mummy is Gretchen, she's in the kitchen. You'll meet her soon. I hope you stay! Aunt Tabby and Mummy need another girl to even the odds around here. This is my room, but you can stay here, too!"_

"_Where is your dad?" Esme asked quietly._

"_He . . . he's in Azkaban right now. But he didn't do it! I know he didn't! And one day I'm going to meet him, and he's going to love me!" Calypso paused, "won't he?"_

"_Of course he will," Esme said, her eyes growing heavy, "that's what fathers do best."_

_Both girls fell asleep in bed, and became sisters in that very moment._

Luna had come to sit with them, leaning her back against Ginny's as her menagerie of fire animals paraded around them. Her gentle, soft voice rose gently above waving grass as the sun began to set, throwing shades of purple, red, and orange against the white-washed house behind them.

"Who is your father, Cally?"

"Sirius Black."

Ginny and Luna turned sharply to look at Calypso; Ginny's animals halted instantly, but did not vanish.

The night and early morning was spent in conversation, Calypso riveted to Ginny's stories of her elusive, convict father.


	3. Chapter 2: Ruminations over Tea

_A/N: Hello, hello! I've graduated college, all that jazz. This is for Avalonchick5, who requested that I update (And it's actually been about 2 years, which is just negligent and dreadful). I'm sorry it's so short, but my writing's a little rusty, and if it's crap I don't want you to suffer for ages. Anyway, on we go!_

_Chapter 2: Ruminations over Tea and Lemon Squares_

Gretchen and Tabitha stared at the girls in the back garden, lying one across the other with no concept of personal space. As Esme wove daisies and violets into Ginny's hair, Gretchen couldn't help but give a small sigh. It was a sigh without pity, however; just a sigh acknowledging the great companionship that was once had, and shattered by events beyond their control.

"They're ready for physical training, you know. And if they catch onto that as quickly as they have their powers, we'll be headed into ground zero within the month."

Gretchen's mouth curled into a wry smirk, "which ground zero do you mean? Voldemort and his Deatheaters bent on destruction, or your fiancé and the unwitting father of my child?"

Tabitha blinked slowly at Gretchen over her cup of Earl Grey, and Gretchen was unsure if it was due to surprise, or pondering. Finally she spoke

"You don't honestly view the two as equally threatening, do you?"

"Don't you?"

"Not at all. Sirius and Remus won't kill us. Not intentionally, at any rate. If anything, they may keel over in shock."

Gretchen laughed outright, and finally reached out to bring a lemon square to her mouth.

"Ah yes. The look on Sirius' face as he realizes he has paternal obligations. That's . . . almost worth it."

Tabitha set her mug down with an uncharacteristically loud plunk. She knew that Gretchen was reticent about seeing Sirius after all these years, that her feelings for him had not waned, and the added pressure of introducing him to his daughter was undoubtedly a burden. But it was not in Gretchen's nature to back away from a fight, and subsequently told her so.

"Oh, Tabitha, it's not about me anymore, you know that! Well, not entirely. It's about Calypso. I don't want her to be hurt because her father ignores her as he tries to reclaim his lost youth. You know Molly said he views Harry as more of a James the sequel than a godson and responsibility—"

"Yes, but that's Molly, and you know how she gets when she's claimed someone as her own. No one else is good enough to care for her duckies but her. Play fair, we know _that _first hand"

Gretchen knew Tabitha had a point. The inundation of firecalls from Mrs. Weasley in the first hours after Ginny's arrival had been annoying at best. Regular packages arrived of what Ginny's favorite marmalade, a book she'd left behind, and spare socks.

"Too right. . . Poor Mrs. Weasley. I suppose since she never knew Lilly before, she can't begin to grasp how different Ginny will be now that she's harnessed fire. Ginny was so used to being trod on by her brothers' to a certain extent. Of course she could always hold her own, but it was just _that_. Holding her own. And now she's mastered something that they never had a chance at achieving—through no fault of their own, of course. It's a very different girl-child sitting out there."

"Indeed. I'm not sure Ginny even wears socks anymore. Or that much clothing at all, if she can help it." Both women chuckled, giving a small jump as the kitchen door slammed open.

"I'm too hot with all those layers on! I feel like I'm burning up all over," Ginny said as she swiped a lemon square off the small plate on the table. Calypso swaggered in behind her, took a sip from her mother's largely untouched mug of tea, and moved to the counter top to boost herself on top of it.

"So, Mummy dearest, I don't mean to sound obnoxious—"

"Yes, you do," grinned Esme as she climbed through the kitchen window, kissing Tabitha on the top of the head before rummaging in the pantry for a ginger biscuit. Luna ran to the wireless, turning it to a music station the girls' enjoyed. Feet began to bob up and down to the beat of a popular song and Ginny sang the words under her breath (but was no less focused than if she were quiet).

"Fine, maybe I do. When are we going to learn the cool stuff? We've got this control thing down, now when can we start cracking skulls and making our superhero costumes?"

Gretchen smiled at her erstwhile child, a twinkle in her eye,

"It's funny you should ask"


	4. Chapter 3: The Return

_A/N: Hello again! It's still a bit short, and a bit later than planned, but I'm trying! This one is for Avalonchick5 and geek'd, and everyone who put me on their updates. Thanks for not giving up on me! _

Chapter 3: The return

'It's a strange feeling,' she thought to herself as she perched atop the roof, with only the midnight sky as her companion. There was a tangible strength in her body—one that she had only ever imagined. Not just the new muscles that stretched beneath her ivory skin, waiting to be called upon to spring into action. Though still slender and slight, her skin stretched and pulled in new places. The curve of her neck as she turned her head, and the cords of her legs; she even walked a little differently, with a graceful swagger that belied her newfound power.

What was truly strange was the pricking sensation at the corners of her mind, alive with new perceptions and concepts. There were times when her hands positively itched, begging to manipulate the element that she now felt so akin to. Her impulsiveness, even her maternal instincts—something she had always attributed to her mother—her temper, all was found in fire. But with it was a constantly tamped down ability to destroy as easily as create. And it frightened her.

She had so readily embraced this new life, a family of sisters and an illustrious history that stretched back ages. This life was a calling, and a dangerous one not of her own making. She had excelled in all the challenges she faced, only to now face the greatest challenge of all.

Going home.

The walls of the Burrow would seem so small to her now. Now that she had been treated like an adult, been handed great expectations. How could she allow the home she once loved—and still loved—so dearly, to confine her? Would she no longer dance through the kitchens, sing out through the halls?

But she knew that her concerns would not vanish over night.

'Better to sleep and let whatever will happen, happen.'

And so Ginny slipped off the shingles, to rejoin her sleeping sisters.

In the kitchen, Tabitha sat at the kitchen table with a bottle of Firewhiskey beside her. She stared into the distance, twisting her ring around her finger.

_"Tabitha, I love you. I'll wait for you. That is . . . if you'll wait for me."_

'I've waited, Remus. I've kept my promise. Have you?'

"Come on, come on, come on! The portkey won't wait for you, you know!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming" grumbled Calypso as she went out the front door. Her mother was acting like a slave driver, making sure all the girls' bags were packed, checking the house not once but three times, making Calypso change her shirt, and now hustling them all out the door like her arse was on fire.

Not that Calypso blamed her.

Dumbledore had sent a message two days ago, that it was time for the girls to join the Order. And they would not be joining them at the Burrow, like everyone had been expecting, but at 12 Grimmauld Place. Otherwise known as the childhood home of mass murderer Sirius Black. Otherwise known as her father.

'My father that doesn't know I even _exist_'

But there was no time to wallow in questions and wonderings about 'would her know her or not' because all too soon she, Ginny, Esme, and Luna were herded to the old broken record. They put their fingers to it, bags in their other hand, and at the swift tug . . .

They hurtled into the unknown.

And landed rather un-gently in the dark brown earth of Sirius Black's back garden at breakfast time, quite unannounced to anyone.

"REMUS! Blast it, Remus, what the bloody hell was that?" Sirius bellowed as he tromped down the stairs, slapping his mother's portrait upside the head as he moved passed it.

"I don't know Sirius, and really, must you antagonize her like that? I can't stand her incessant shrieking." Remus sat his teacup on the kitchen table, pushing away from it heavily while Fred, George, Ron, and Harry sat chuckling into their toast. Hermione, bless her, seemed to agree with him as she winced.

Sirius poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot on the stove. "I'll do what I please, thank you! Could look out the window to see just what it was? Probably just Crookshanks after another bird, eh?"

Remus stood at the window, staring out the glass as his skin turned ashen.

"Professor Lupin?" Hermione queried softly from her seat.

Sirius moved to join him at the window, and promptly dropped his coffee cup.

In the back garden stood two women he thought he would never see again.

Tabitha's long black hair snapped about her face in the blustering wind, her eyes locked on Remus'. One hand clutched at an old carpetbag, while the other reached out to steady her companion.

Gretchen. Gretchen, the girl of his dreams that he had not seen in fifteen years. Not since that night, when everything had been taken from him. His memories of her had been the first to leave him. Three years into his sentence, she was just a whisper. A glimmer of dark eyes and a laugh that twisted him up in knots. But she was also among the first memories to rush back to him, once he was far away from the Dementors' dark influence. Everything—her smile, her laugh, the way she moved, her intelligence. He was just as ruined for any woman now as he was the night of James' wedding.

And she looked just the same—laughing, yet slightly irritated as she pulled her foot out of a rhododendron.

"Sirius, look."

"I see her, Remus."

"No, look beyond them."

And there, clustered together just behind the loves of their lives, stood the ghosts of their collective past.

One head of flame, one of night, one of the earth, and one of shining gold.

The next generation of Elementals had come.


	5. Chapter 4: Now it Seems So Far Away

_Author's note: Well, yet another long break . . . but I've actually edited this chapter a little, which is an improvement I suppose. I'm attempting to be a bit more regular with updates, but we'll see what that means . . ._

_Song to consider listening to: All the Stars, by the Wailin Jennys_

Chapter 4: Now it Seems so far away

"Absolutely not."

"Molly"

"I will not-"

The sound cut off with the abrupt slamming of the kitchen door. The girls sat clustered on the stairs, dimly aware of the peering eyes of Ginny's three brothers, their brainy friend, and the green-eyed trouble-making companion. But they paid their voyeurs no mind. The morning had been strange enough without them.

_Remus moved to open the back door, leaning against the doorjamb as the procession moved towards him. He should have known, really, that the next generation would be called up and the Tabitha would soon return . . . but the thought had never occurred to him. He had truly believed that Tabitha's absence was akin to his normal life stripped from him at the age of five and the brotherhood of four that had been so thoroughly shattered sixteen years ago. Vanished, forever, to that far away place where good things disappeared to and never came back. But here she was, with an odd semi-vision from his past. Seeing the four girls clustered together was like seeing a time warp through the shimmering haze of a heat wave; they looked so similar to the girls he knew and loved, but altered slightly._

_A warm palm in the center of his chest shook him from his thoughts. Tabitha stood before him, a hand placed firmly over his heart. Without a word she moved into the glow of the kitchen, a shadow with chestnut hair and clover-colored eyes slipping in behind her. Ginny Weasley, hair hung long and body strong, grinned at him as she scampered through the door, linking arms with Luna Lovegood and her eyes fixed on the toast rack. Her steps faltered at the look of surprise on her brothers' faces, but returned to their determined cadence with an added glint of steel in her eye._

_Remus could only imagine how the tides were changing in the Weasley family. Gretchen stood before him, uncharacteristically hesitant. His heightened senses twisted at the waves of dread coming off his dear friend, until he could only reach out to grasp her hand. _

_They all had such unfinished business. War and loss left no time to tie up loose ends._

_A dark-haired stunner strode into the kitchen, her blue-grey eyes taking in every detail with exacting precision. Her elegantly slouched posture and nonchalance struck him as familiar but distant. A page he'd just read but couldn't quite remember in detail. _

_Ginny's voice piped up, muffled around the sharp edges of her second slice of toast and raspberry jam._

"_When's the next Order meeting? Apparently we've got business to discuss . . . no rest for the wicked and all that."_

_It was while all hell broke loose that Remus discovered that Sirius was nowhere to be seen._

Molly Weasley had promptly kicked all the children out of the kitchen, the new ones included. It was not a promising start. Gretchen and Tabitha stood before her like scolded schoolgirls as Molly ran the gamut of reasons the girls—her daughter in _particular_—had no business being involved in "grown up matters."

"—They could be hurt, maimed, killed, tortured. What will become of their educations? Or their opportunities at a normal life? They are fifteen, this is hardly the appropriate place for them, they cannot comprehend . . ."

The door swung open, admitting a rather reluctant looking Sirius Black, and a Remus Lupin attempting to look rather like he hadn't frog-marched his best friend down the stairs.

"Hello, Sirius"

"Gretchen"

Gretchen looked passed the tall, dark, handsome man with the newly-old eyes to the grey eyes of her daughter peering through the stair rails, all her bravado swiped clear at a glance of the man she'd only dreamt about. The man who walked past her without a second look.

The door swung shut.

Molly cleared her throat, put out at any interruption, however deserved it may be.

"As I was saying, they are fifteen, they cannot comprehend the repercussions of their actions, of their choices. This takes things out of the theoretical . . . into absolutely literal, you cannot ask them of them"

Gretchen opened her mouth, only to have it drop agape at the defense of an unlikely person. Or rather, a reasonable defense from an unlikely source.

"Molly, we are at war. If they have not stopped being children now, they will all too shortly. Would you condemn them to only read names of the dead out of the newspaper? Would you bind their hands, hide them away from all the horrors of the world?"

"I—"

"We can't, Molly. We can wish all day that Harry will never see the same devastation that we did, that Ginny and her friends will not be forced to make the decisions that G-, that their predecessors made. But these are fruitless dreams, Molly, that will get us nowhere and get them killed. Let them fight for their loved ones and their home. And hope that they fare better than we did."

Remus placed his hand on his friend's shoulder, while Molly struggled to find something to say and warred with herself between seeing his logic and the natural desire to protect those you love from inevitable suffering.

"They may sit in on a meeting . . . but no missions of any kind!"

Gretchen opened her mouth to argue further as Molly swept from the room, causing the girls to scramble to their feet. Calypso jumped down four steps to avoid being brained by her trunk, startling Esme into a glaring reproach. Her responding wolfish grin sent a shockwave straight through Remus down to his kneecaps. He glanced lightening fast at Tabitha, who could only shrug in complacent acceptance. Another perusal of Calypso's profile threw into blinding light the page he'd been trying to recall . . . a dance on a wedding night, and the added swagger to Sirius' walk on Halloween night . . . finally, a date with the girl he loved . . . the tragedy of the next day.

Calypso turned to gaze at Remus as straight-forward as any he'd ever received from Sirius. From her father.

Gretchen and Sirius always did like to make things complicated . . . but this really was a bit much.

"Hey Ginny" Hermione said softly, knocking gently on the open door. Ginny turned from the window, her hair like burnished copper in the sunlight as it snaked down her back in tendrils.

"Hey Hermione," she replied, smiled softly at her old friend.

"How do you feel?"

"Different," Ginny replied honestly, "and sort of the same . . . just stronger, I guess."

"Can you tell me about what you've learned?"

Ginny smiled; Hermione never really changed. Always eager to learn something new.

"It's hard to explain, I guess. And I'm really not supposed to talk about it, I think."

Luna wandered into the room and lay across Ginny's bed. The directness of her gaze surprised Hermione, though the clear blue of her eyes stayed the same, a cloudless sky on a summer day.

A boy hovered in the shadows cast by the sagging nooks and crannies of the old house, watching the penny-bright hair of the girl he'd known for years. She smiled and laughed as the old Dumbledore's Army members caught up. But there was something new . . . a metal to her that was made of more than the experience they shared that spring past. It was a confidence, a sense of purpose—resolute. Seeing his feelings reflected in her face, Harry thought he felt a kinship to her. But also a strange familiarity, a humming he could not place. A thrumming feeling that drew his focus to the curve of her waist and the soft creamy skin at the backs of her knees, and the curls that begged to be brushed behind her ear.

"Oi."

Harry's head swung round like a whip, and he winced as he craned his neck still upwards to his best friend.

"What's up with her? She seems . . . off. "

Harry was sure his perception of Ginny and Ron's were now quite different, but only said, "I dunno . . . suppose we'll find out soon enough."

Harry turned to head back upstairs with Ron, who was muttering something about stealing back his deck of Exploding Snap cards from Fred and George, only to find himself face to face with the brown haired girl with the clover eyes . . . Esme, recalling the rapid-fire introductions as Mrs. Weasley unceremoniously squired the girls to their room earlier that morning. She looked at him quietly, like she could reach inside his heart and crack it open to discover its secrets.

A single nod, and she moved inside her shared room. He inched up the staircase slowly, waiting to hear the embarrassing reveal of his lurking. But Esme never said a word.

The room was in uproar once again. Sirius and Severus yelled at one another across the table, hurling accusations of promoting reckless behavior and insults for all and sundry like Olympic javelin throwers. Molly stood red-faced in front of Arthur Weasley, lecturing him in no uncertain terms after he had the audacity to perhaps see the value in sending his daughter out on a mission that she surely could not handle and would result in wreck and ruin. Gretchen sat with her head in her hands, the picture of defeat. Remus and Tabitha sat observing, the very picture of their position sixteen years ago, down to the hands clasped discreetly beneath the table.

Nobody noticed the four girls that had unceremoniously jumped up to perch on the kitchen counter at the beginning of the meeting. Ginny's head rested on Calypso's shoulder, her legs tangled with Esme's and clasping Luna's hand that wrapped around her waist from behind. They said nothing to each other, instead watching the chaos envelope the narrow kitchen.

Calypso lifted her head from where it rested against Ginny's copper curls and turned her head to look directly into Ginny's eyes. A tiny spark twinkled in their grey depths, a single spot of mischief that caught hold and kindled within each of the ignored elements.

A sound like a sparkler lighting crackled through the air, too subtle for raging adults to notice. A slight fizzle, and a flame burned merrily above Snape's head. Calypso squinted her eyes and curled three fingers, pointer finger extended and thumb hitchhiking into the air. She moved slowly, taking unobtrusive aim, before a blast of ice hit the small ball of flame. A shower of sparks accompanied an outpouring of energy, slamming Severus and Sirius into their seats and making everyone jump. Dead silence filled the room as those occupying the table turned to those with more unconventional seating. Calypso and Ginny sat mirrored each other, with devilish grins and a bare foot propped up on the counter with an arm wrapped around the bent leg. Calypso lifted her still pointed finger-gun to her lips and blew off the tip.

"Boom" she said, as the other girls smiled and chuckled. Molly Weasley zeroed in on her daughter's snickering.

"Get your foot off the counter young lady! What has gotten into you?"

Ginny leapt off the counter lightly.

"Mum, things are different. I'm different. I've been treated as an adult this whole summer. A competent adult. No more walking on eggshells around me. I've come into my own, and I finally feel totally like myself."

She walked over to Molly and gently took her hands.

"I'm not saying this is going to be easy to get used to, but things change and we have to accept them."

Molly took a deep breath and shook her head brisquely, "well . . . we'll talk about that sort of thing later, but you're still not ready for any missions. You know you still get a fright so easily."

Ginny took a deep breath, breaking away from her mother and taking a few steps backward. She chanced a glance at Professor Dumbledore, who had sat with his fingers steepled, peering over his glasses. He met her eyes calmly, with only acceptance gazing back at her.

"Unfortunately for you, Mum, I don't think it's really up to you. It's up to the Professor."

Molly turned her head to Dumbledore, sure that after a year of attempting to keep Harry off the battlefields, he would rebuff their ridiculous idea.

"I understand your concern, Molly. But they are no younger than Lily, Alice, and of course Gretchen and Tabitha were when they started their missions. Frankly, this is necessary. And considering they've proven this past spring that they'll fight regardless, it seems better to focus their energy where we need it."

With that Ginny turned and the girls exited the room, to the faint smell of singed feathers. Harry, Hermione, and Ron scuttled away from their Extendable Ears as the girls moved with almost military precision into their room. As the door closed, Harry could see the very tips of Ginny's hair smoking slightly.

Ron and Hermione spoke in rapidly in hushed tones just behind him, but he couldn't help extending his hand out slightly, as if to touch the solid wood that blocked this newly bewitching yet familiar girl from his sight.


End file.
